


Nightmare

by KlingonEtiquette



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Mello L and Near are like brothers, Mello-drama, One Shot, standalone story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 02:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlingonEtiquette/pseuds/KlingonEtiquette
Summary: "I don't understand," Near confesses. It hurts to say, like tearing pins out of his throat. Once a single teardrop falls, the rest follow in a relentless, humiliating torrent. "I know people die. I had a family before here, not that I remember them much, and I... I know they died. I know it. But I don't understand. Why did it have to be them?"- - -Another sad one-shot. Hope you enjoy!





	Nightmare

A minute is all it takes to turn a peaceful day into a nightmare. Before Near has time to realize what he's lost, Mello starts screaming. Most of it is unintelligible, just sound, torn from the depths of unfathomable grief. Near wants to cover his ears and stop listening—it would be too easy—and yet he cannot bring himself to. He sits and listens to Mello scream and bang clenched fists on the desk until he thinks it might never stop. Until he understands, at last, what Mello's screams mean. 

"L..." he whispers, too quiet to be heard over Mello's racket.  _L is dead._ This, too, is unfathomable. Like Mello's grief, it seems out of place here. It belongs in some solemn church graveyard, under the shadow of a gnarled willow tree and the watchful gaze of angels. It belongs to someone else, not Mello. In nine years, Near has never known Mello to wear vulnerability with so few guards. Near doesn't like it. He wishes Mello would close the door again, lock it tight, and throw away the key. 

He can't bear to see Mello cry. 

"Mello," he begins, but this, too, goes unheard. 

"You're lying!" Mello shouts. This time, when his hand comes down on the desk, something breaks. He raises his arm again, but the fall never comes. Mello crumbles, landing on his knees on the floor. Next to Near, though Near would never dare reach out. He's too afraid. He doesn't know how. 

So he says, "No, Mello, he isn't." Up close, he can see bruising and swelling on Mello's broken hand. All Near wants to do is make Mello feel better. All he wants to do is make Mello stop crying. Near can't listen to this sound anymore, not if he wants to stay calm. And he has to stay calm, doesn't he, for Mello's sake? 

But Mello only stops crying to scream some more unintelligible curses, cradling his hand to his chest. He looks around the room with that awful, accusatory glare, and Near feels like shrinking into the floor. He is not afraid of Mello, but he is afraid of losing Mello, and that's just as bad.  _I've lost one brother_ , Near thinks despondently.  _I can't lose him, too._ It might be too late. Mello has been unwell for a long time, hasn't he? L used to tell Near to keep an eye on Mello, just in case something went wrong, just in case he snapped. Near always did, because he cared about Mello, and because he did not want to disappoint L. He cared about L, too. He  _still_ cares about L, even though L is cold and buried under the ground. Nothing left to be done for a dead man but mourn him. 

"Near," Mello murmurs, his voice splintered and pained. "How can you just sit there like it's a normal day? Like... Like you've just had breakfast and tea and you're thinking about—I don't know—playing a game of fucking tennis at noon?"

Near frowns. "I don't play tennis," he says, and realizes a moment too late that it's the wrong answer. Mello snarls through his teeth, resembling a wild, rabid wolf.

"What are you, a fucking baby? You're twelve fucking years old, Near, so why don't you start acting it?"

Near almost tells Mello that fifteen is too old for temper tantrums, but thinks better of it. Mello has always been temperamental; it's more than likely that he always will be. 

"I don't understand," Near confesses. It hurts to say, like tearing pins out of his throat. Once a single teardrop falls, the rest follow in a relentless, humiliating torrent. "I know people die. I had a family before here, not that I remember them much, and I... I know they died. I  _know_ it. But I don't understand. Why did it have to be them?"

Mello has stopped screaming. "Near..." He reaches out for Near with his good hand and, unfamiliar with affection, Near shies away. 

"It's all right, Mello. There's nothing to be done for them now."  _Just like L_. "I just wish L didn't have to go, too."

Never one to give up, Mello reaches to hug Near again. This time, Near lets him, grateful for the brother he has left. Held in his brother's arms, Near feels like a child. He feels lost and scared and alone and so incredibly sad. Every breath is made of ice, every tear burns, and every second passes with a loud ticking sound that cuts like a knife. 

"I'm scared, Mello." Near turns his face into Mello's shoulder, careful not to hurt Mello's broken hand. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to catch the bastard that killed L, that's what," Mello says, sounding almost... defeated. "When we do, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands. I swear to fucking God, I will rip out his goddamned throat. I don't care what I become. I don't care anymore. I'm not some puppet for this place to jerk around. I'm not some kid soldier waiting for another order. When I find that bastard, I'm going to rip his fucking lungs out."

_No,_ Near thinks.  _You won't. I won't let you. You're not a monster like Kira, no matter what you want, and I won't let you turn into one_. 

Instead, he says, "I believe you." 


End file.
